


Cold

by JayceCarter



Series: 30 Days of Smut - Countdown to Anniversary [7]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Cold Weather, F/M, Lazy Mornings, Morning Sex, Smut, Warm Hancock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Nora needs to start her day, but Hancock convinces her to stay a little longer.





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7: Slow and lazy sex
> 
> Sorry!! I was a day late, lol. I fell asleep last night before I finished it. This is shorter and a bit sweeter than my normal smut, lol. Turns out, sweet sex is really fucking hard.

John grumbled when Nora moved beside him. Girl always tried to wake up too early, pulling herself from bed before the sun even came up many mornings.

John? He fucking hated mornings. If he could have, he’d have made them illegal, but turned out a few things even mayors couldn’t do. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back down and against him. Her bare skin pressed against his, cooler than he ran, and fuck he liked that. The radiation soaked into his skin always made him feel fevered, but Nora soothed him.

Nora laughed and pulled against his grip. “I’ve got to get up, John.”

“Why? You’ve been gone for almost a month. Stay a little longer.” He didn’t let her go even when she brought her elbow back into his side. He only huffed out a breath and nuzzled the back of her neck. “It’s fucking cold out of this bed, sunshine, ‘specially this time a year. Floor’ll freeze your feet, ain’t got any coffee ready.”

“So the world has to wait because you don’t like mornings?”

He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck in a soft kiss. “Come on, I promise to keep you nice and warm in this bed.” His hand slid from her hip to tease his fingers along her stomach. The skin of her stretchmarks always drew his touch, and she’d gotten over any embarrassment long before. He dragged those fingers up the center of her stomach, then danced them over her ribs before tracing the undercurve of her breast.

“Preston will get mad.”

“So let him be mad. I’ve missed you.” John moved his hand to her breast, fingers light enough she’d shiver from time to time.

“Maybe a few minutes.”

He knew Nora. A few minutes would turn into an hour, and he could stretch that shit out as long as he wanted.

And he wanted her for a long damned time. The days of falling asleep alone, of waking up without her, they wore on him. He accepted she had a life of her own, one that had nothing to do with him, one that had her out there saving the world with her Minutemen. He’d never try to stop her, to trap her, but fuck if he didn’t feel like his arm was missing when she was gone.

John moved his hand to her other breast, toying with the nipple until her thighs shifted against each other, and she moved her arm behind her, between them.

Her hand drifted over his hip before it reached between them and found his cock. She touched him with so much confidence now. Those first times together he cherished, the ones when she’d hesitated, when she’d been unsure. Only took time before she played his body with the same skill he had with hers.

She stroked him, causing his cock to brush against her ass.

John groaned at the temptation. Instead of giving in, he moved his hand back down over her stomach to between her thighs.

She parted them with ease, letting him in like she always did.

The wetness, the fucking heat, it had his hips shifting forward into her fist. He dipped two of his scarred fingers into her cunt while pressing the heel of his hand against her clit.

A soft gasp filled the room, her cheeks flushed despite the chill. So damned pretty like this. Undone, and hungry, and all his. Not Nora the savior, the General of the Minutemen, the destroyer of the Institute. No, this wasn't Nora. This was his sunshine. 

Nora shifted until she lined his cock up with her, pressing against his fingers already inside her. “Please, John.” The moaned plea was like the best song Magnolia ever sang in the Third Rail.

John pulled his fingers from her and set his hand on her hip. “Anything for you, sunshine.” He shifted his hips forward while pulling her back until he filled her.

She reached her arm up and behind her to clutch the back of John’s neck, nails biting into his ruined skin. The tiny sparks of pain he gave into, the way she always held him like she couldn’t get close enough, like she expected him to float away.

Funny since she kept leaving, not him.

He set an easy pace, her back pressed against his chest, his lips against her neck. The room held her moans and his raspy voice. They soaked into the walls to chase the chill away.

When she came, her back arched away from him, but he held her tight. No getting away, not even an inch, not when she’d been gone so long. He couldn’t stand the idea of her going anywhere.

He followed her soon after, lured in by the movement of her hips, by the sweat he kissed from her neck. He didn’t pull out after he came, keeping her against him, wanting to let the moment last as long as it could.

Nora snuggled closer, wrapping her arm around the arm he had slung around her.

“Preston is probably waiting,” Nora said with a yawn.

“Probably.” John pressed a kiss to her neck.

“Maybe I’ll stay a little longer. It is cold out there-” She relaxed against him. “-And you are warm.”

John grinned before curling tighter around her. He’d keep her warm just as long as she'd let him.


End file.
